May Contain Bolts

Over the past week I’ve come to realise just how tight-knit we are as a community. On Tuesday, as the clock wound down to 3PM in physics, Ryan sitting next to me had just had all his stuff nuggeted. Again. “They even nuggeted my blazer,” he quipped to me, as he threw down the inverted garment onto the table. Then it hit me.

Where was my blazer?

And so began the chase for my blazer. Somewhere between lunch and 3PM, I had dumped my blazer (due to the heat), and forgotten to pick it up. (silly me) I know, my phone was in my blazer! Problem solved! I find HTL near Barrengarry after checking lost property, and ask to borrow his phone.

“The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.”

Crap. I had turned my phone off earlier because of Awards Day. So, my phone, my blazer and my myopia movie ticket are missing. And so the running began again – the oval (where I had been watching the epic 3on3 match between Ruilong’s and Weezy’s team), the canteen (where Ms. F brought a cake for our little chem party), P2.1 (a double, where I may have left it on the floor or similar). No cigar.

I move to the bus bay to see some unknown bus. Not having my phone, I’ve lost all sense of time. I pass Cabbage, and Petey’s physics group on the front lawn, wave, complain, and continue on to the Carlo. Silly me and my absent mind. This isn’t the first time either. I dropped my old phone on the oval once in year 8. And I lost my school hat in year 9.

But, somehow, they both made it back to me.

On the train, I mope a bit again, I meet with my south-side crew at Redfern again, I mope a bit more. They cheer me up, the silliness of a year 9 Baulko kid, the stoned emo highness of a year 10 Ruse kid and the warmth of a year 12 NSG girl.

That night, with nowhere else to turn to, I hit Facebook, and post an FML. Within 3 minutes, Bosco hits back, giving me a right old slap across the face. (not really) They had been waiting for me on the Eastwood. Nicole had picked up the blazer from wherever I had left it (I was too overjoyed to ask  where ), and had ended up lugging it home after I failed to make my regular appearance on the bus. (thank you so much again! )

—

It’s moments like these that I’ll really miss. The greetings, the quirky characters, the fuzzy feelings I get on the inside from the smiles on people’s faces. And the mutual trust we have in one another. The trust built over 6 years, as we’ve seen each other grow and mature. Through the highs and the lows, the times when maybe we’ve felt a little overcast inside, and the times when we’re more radiant than the sun. Everyday, when I wake up and head off, I know I’ll be able to wave and smile, and see them wave back.

Moments. The small things we take forgranted once they’re gone. 86400 moments in a day. If I could go back, would I change anything? As we close off our life at Ruse, and move on to bigger, scarier things, I want to say that I have no regrets, and I’m looking forward to the future.

But I can’t. I wish I could take some of those moments back, and try to change who I am. Maybe I would know you better. Maybe if I wasn’t so shy, and awkward, I would be as cool or awesome as that guy or girl.

Missed opportunity. Regret. If you have none, then good for you. Write a book. Maybe you can help me to find me, to figure out where exactly this road in front of me is taking me. To find where I’m supposed to be, what I could have and should have done. What I’m meant to do now.

I want to say that I will never forget you all, and I really hope I don’t, even as we seemingly disperse into this massive world. I’ve loved every moment we’ve shared, every second you’ve spent with me. Thank you for taking me as I am, the fragile me, the sleepless me, and being a friend to me. (if you’ve hated me deep on the inside too, that’s cool too ) The 6 years you’ve made me laugh, you’ve made me cry (like the time I got dakked for the first time ever at yr7 peer support camp Hi Jen Chen and Gavin!), you’ve built me up and taught this little birdy to fly. The kid who used to wear his pants up high, who is scared of bikes. (after massively stacking it when he was a kid) The kid who never thought he would conquer his stagefright (after falling over in a school musical as a little primary school kid). You’ve pushed me higher, forced me to keep going even when it all looked grim.

To Jazzog, I shall miss you all dearly. My Fridays will never be the same again. The songs, the joy you’ve given me over the past year, week in, week out. May the spirit live on in our hearts and voices (that doesn’t even make any sense)

To my musical and drama production buddies, the nights and Saturdays spent were some of the best times of my life. I’m so disappointed I didn’t get involved earlier/do drama in year 10. You were awesome, and we put on quite a show (and I’ll remember the fact that I made Shiva’s sister cry )

So thank you everyone. And may we make the most of the time we have left together.

P.S. This guy likes hugs.

This may turn out a little messy.

Since the sand seems to have stopped flowing, I thought I might jump into the foray. Also, after seeing detailsinthefabricx’s post, it got me hunting for the old albums. I ended up finding and scanning a bunch of old photos.

Spot the difference!

I swear the guy next to HTL is Douglas…

This is me. Generic, asian, mushroom-cut kid. In OshKosh B’Gosh overalls.

So, we’re reaching the end of -

Ok, I can’t really come up with anything half-decent at the moment, I’m tired and I want to sleep. Much love, peace out.

Yadda yadda, spiel. Thanks again Kelly for the lift to Epping. Shoutout to Jgan, Winnie, Annie and Benny.

It’s Friday…AGAIN, and I’m bored…AGAIN. Massacred by my mundane life of mediocrity. Fawr shfifty feive is the time.

Jazz ensemble was interesting today. Recorded some songs with the help of Buddha and Shaun. Much enjoyment was had watching the microphone pointed at the piano slowly sink down towards the floor because it wasn’t tightened properly…

On the way to Epping in Kelly’s car (thanks again!) there was this crazy woman in a hatchback, who would slowly drift out of the lane…then swerve recklessly back. As we turned at the Carlo court intersection (us in the right lane, her car on the left), she swerved into our lane (followed by a symphony of ‘oh sh**’ shouts) and proceeded to Carlo court.

Met James Sin on the train at Eastwood. Studying hard for a mid-semester economics exam. The questions look quite easy – looks like Petey is set for next year. (it’s basically high-school eco)

At Strathfield a man holding a piece of paper comes up the stairs, stopping at each person. It saiid something like ‘I’m deaf, so give me $5′. These sort of people have always made me wonder. All over the city, they sit, waiting and watching. In street corners, outside stores – they’re everywhere. I don’t want to feel uncompassionate, but why can’t these people just go to a charity or something if they were really that needy? How much do they really make? Is it right or wrong to give these people money? (you start a cycle by doing so – you’d think that by doing so the number of these people would decrease, but in reality they see that it’s becoming a decent source of income, and others also do, and you end up perpetually in the same situation) Is there a better way for governments to deal with it?

Speaking of governments, all this Youth Decide and Power Shift stuff. It’s all good that you want to get young people involved in the political process, but I think that by doing so through a special interest group is completely the wrong way to go about it. I am in no way discrediting the message of either, however I do believe that the youth need both sides of the argument represented. If someone asks you ‘Why do you believe that climate change is more significant than spending on infrastructure, healthcare and education?’, you should be ready with a response – or why are you part of something you don’t really believe in? Research, read more than the spin they give you, and form your own opinion. Wake up sheeple.

The number of people who read my blog never ceases to amaze me. Shoutout to the supposed extra R08/N17 readers I have. Say hi to me or something, I’m always curious to know who’s stalking me.

5:37 as the train pulls to Sydenham. It’s almost daunting to think of the number of times I’ve gone on a train now, especially considering that number was almost 0 6 years ago. 5 times a week, 40 weeks a year. And to think this routine will end in just over 2 weeks, that everything I’ve known will become distant as we start from the bottom of the food chain again in some new foreign location.

We say that we hate the mundane, the routine. But in reality, we crave it. We fear the change, the uncertain. But when the new become the old, we become complacent again; the familiarity we seek returns. The Wii, the iPod – crazy names that were once mocked, but are now universally recognised (thanks to the help of a few marketing geniuses). The new Facebook layout – back when it was released, there would be one message every 5 minutes complaining, and numerous group chanting ‘Bring the old layout back!’. Today – silence. The stalkerwall has stuck, the ruckus has died down, and all is calm.

Strange creatures we are as humans. 5:46 is where this journey ends, so goodbye.

A quick welcome to Deva, Doog and Thashan to the blogosphere. Happy Birthday again to Kelly (who probably won’t read this, and I wish I could have said it in person). The following is a recount of the alternate/parallel universe UNSW Open Day. Follow the links from mishmashmosh’s blog for the other UNSW Open Day. Sorry, this post is pictureless.

Level 1, Building K17, UNSW, Kensington. Kenneth (year 11) and I walk up the stairs of the CSE (Computer Science and Engineering) building, into the small competition room. It’s approaching 11AM, and as we walk into the room we see the team of year 10s from Queensland neatly set up in the back-left corner, and a Ruse blazer in the back-right.

The enemy had beaten us already.

We took our places behind, wondering where on earth our third team member (Evgeny, year 10)  could possibly be.  Kenneth called him. Voicemail. Damn. It was approaching 11:30, and the competition was meant to start at 12:30. Plus, the fact that he was the one with the computer and the printer. This wasn’t the first time either – last year for another programming comp (ACPC), he left us stranded on the day of the competition, because “he forgot”. Not looking good.

Ms C arrives. We have our first R09 visitors. Small talk from me. Quite awkward. Walk away. Hope I didn’t make you feel awkward.

Davo, Mank and Shiva finish setting up. In the front left there’s the returners – St Andrews. They’re loaded – 2 x 24″ Dell LCD monitors, a huge desktop PC, a laptop, and they even had a roadie. (lols) Next to them are Penrith, the youngest in the comp. And the team behind us – North Sydney Boys – is nowhere to be found.

Time’s running out for both Evgeny and NSB. Luckily for us, he arrives before 12, loaded and ready to go. NSB are still nowhere to be found, as we head down for free sausages at 12. Do they even know it’s on?

So we stand. And we wait. Man, they cook sausages slow. Even with the massive frontage. I see the person in front get two slices of bread, and I do the same. I am now holding two slices of bread. They offer me two sausages…and I only take one. So now I have one sausage and two pieces of bread. What’s wrong with me? :/

There’s something not quite right about the sausage either. The outside is hard, but the inside is…squishy, and doesn’t taste quite right. USyd’s engineering BBQ was better. And what is it with engineering and BBQs? Apparently UNSW’s CSE does one every Monday or something. That’s a lot of sausage.

Some of the R09 party comes and queues. Greet greet, wish wish, thank thank.

It’s about 12:20, and NSB finally arrive, weary and lunch deprived. We’re about to kick off, and we finish off final preparations and a run through the rules.

START

Relatively close throughout. St Andrews get the early break with the first Q, followed by Mank’s team. It’s swippy swappy between us 3 throughout the competition. Evgeny powers through the problems, and Kenneth finishes problem 5 (after lengthy debugging to find 1 bug) giving us the breakaway.

One problem left, task 4 – an image processing question. Evgeny goes to code it, and we think we have the first half – it’s a picture of Bart Simpson. Only problem is the colours on ours are a bit off…the judge comes.

WRONG

We move on to the second half of the question. It works! +14 points. Mank’s team is quick to reply, finishing problem 5 and moving onto the same one as us.

30 mins left in the comp. We switch and swap things, hoping to get it to work for the first image. Code is printed, tediously analysed and prodded. No cigar. Bart’s face is still brown, and his shirt is an off-pink colour. Mank’s team seems to be having the same problem, as they go to submit and get rejected.

Then breakthrough. Unfortunately, not for us. They’ve solved the first half, leaving us just 5 points in front. We’re going to need a miracle to break us out of this. It doesn’t make sense! How can it work for the hard part of the question, and not for the easy part?

2:36: “YES!” High fives go all around. 100 lights up on the scoreboard. The R09 cheer squad celebrates with the victors. I sit staring blankly at the screen, and our broken code. Mank has done it. But it’s not over yet. For us.

We continue to sit, and chop and change while hoping that St Andrews doesn’t finish Q5. What could possibly be wrong? Much elation and laughter can be heard from outside. The heroes, the champions being praised.

It approaches time. I look over at the St Andrews table, where they are meticulously bashing away on the keyboard. We go into rewrites, as I start coding my solution, then scrap it and continue to prod at the failed code.

FINISH

The adventures begin

The competition comes to an end. We retain second, and congratulate the victors.  The announcement is made, the thanks goes out, we pack and leave. I meet people I haven’t seen in a while, and others that I have. I meet Brad Hall and discuss computing at UNSW. He suggests I go the the co-op desk in the <30mins before the whole place folds, so I take my stuff and walk.

And get lost with Mank.

Eventually we reach the scientia building, and I talk to the nice people there about co-op.

Now, here’s some juicy info. Co-op doesn’t come in a double-degree flavour during signup, but if you perform well enough and your sponsor lets you, they will consider allowing you to do a double degree.

We leave and return to CSE. The others have all got the red UNSW cloth bags. I want one. So I decide to head on a voyage of discovery. We ask some people in the main street, and they point us towards the front gate. Mank decided he want to tag along, so we walk.

And walk. And walk. And walk. (why is it so long?)

And we reach the stand at the front. In front of us there’s a group of three 5-year-old kids. On the table, there’s 3 bags left.

“Would you like a bag?” the student behind the desks ask the kid. And one by one, they take and take. And then it’s gone.

“Uh, excuse me, would you happen to have any bags left?”

“Sorry we’re out, but you might want to try the other desk, up over there.”

WHERE. WE. JUST. CAME. FROM.

By now, my mum’s waiting for me somewhere along the street. We walk back up the road. Past the not-that-good-at-cheerleading cheerleaders. Past the half-toppled balloon arch with the Commonwealth Bank colours. Past the misaligned projector screen on the jumping castle. Past the awkward animeUNSW stand (the conversation on the way down consisted of: “So, this is the anime society in UNSW?” “Yes.” “Wow.” *looks at the Japanese magazines on the desk, and the box with the Gundam model* *walks away*).

Next to the O-Week stand, we ask a person in a red UNSW shirt where we could possibly find one of these elusive red bags that everyone has. He points us to the door on up to the left. So we walk in, turn and

THERE’S NOBODY THERE AND THERE’S NOTHING ON THE DESK.

What the crap. All that for nothing? I wanted that bag. Bad. And I wasn’t going to leave without getting one. A senior UNSW person walked past, and I asked him. His assistant saw the box next to the desk, opened it, and pulled out two bags for us. (“Am I allowed to do this?”) MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. As we walked out, a family, looked at each other after seeing what happened, and approached the box cautiously, as if it had some mysterious protective force surrounding it. What happened next I do not know, for I had made my mother wait about 10mins already, and was not going to hold her up any longer.

So that’s the end of our story. Turns out it was 2 characters that lost us the comp. Ah well. I shall leave you with a quote from the great champion Mank:

“I won ProgComp and all I got was this lousy cloth bag – which I already got last time.” – Mank

The story begins at 4:55, late on an overcast spring afternoon. Inside the carriage of the Tangara train, the unenthusiatic boy sits, resting his weary head on his hand, watching at the world zooms past in fast-mo.

He thinks about yesterday night, and his miserable failed attempt to solve Google Code Jam at 3AM, cup of water in hand – a battle between the circadian cries and the completion of his code. He sees tomorrow as a daunting new day, as he stands to the challenge of the UNSW ProgComp finals. He knows he isn’t ready; the controlled neutrality on his face is merely a facade.

A cover. A mask. A way to hide the embattled soul from the slings and arrows of life and love. A life which he has not yet lived, and a love he has not yet found.

But what is love at such a time as this,
when the youthful minds are absorbed in ignorant bliss?
Love is confused, it wanders, it breaks,
love often gives, love always takes.
Love is not good, and love is not evil,
yet love brings much joy and love makes upheaval.
But at the end of the journey, when the long race is run
I will rest in the company of my truly loved one.

The boy now sits at the foot of the staircase, another train, another place. It’s 5:34 and he peers around the lifeless, stagnent bodies around him, eyes glued to books, magazines, and mX. The gloom is atmospheric – the expressions are blank, the walls are grey, the floor is black.

The doors slide open as the train comes to a stop, the air is lightened by those that hop on. The Dragons are playing the Eels tonight, the fan in the red top expresses delight. He talks on his mobile to someone far away, who might it be – I can’t really say. Who will win tonight is anybody’s guess – Dragons have Wendell so they are my bets.

The time is 5:44 as I draw to a close, wondering what compelled me to write this strange piece of non-prose.

Welcome to The Bottom Line – a new investigative segment exploring the issues of today, with interviews and various other (usually pointless) insights. Today’s topic – the blogodemic.

As the populous of R09 attempt to entertain themselves during the run-up to the most significant events of their puny lives thus far, many have resorted to the act of procrastination through blogging. Since the conclusion of the ‘trials’ (dubbed by some as ‘the second coming of Mr Alder’), the blogforce participation rate (BFPR) has increased exponentially from 14.2% to 17.8%. This has been driven by the strong levels of growth in the Blogspot sector (71.4%) and the Tumblr sector (50%).

WordPress: 11.5 ->13.5 (+3 new, -1 (BS) -0.5 (Tb) +1.5 (LS) transition)
Blogspot: 7 -> 12 (+3 new, +1 (WP) +1 (LS) transition)
Tumblr: 3 -> 4.5 (+1 new, +0.5 (WP) transition)
Live Spaces: 2.5 -> 0 (-1.5 (WP) -1 (BS) transition)

Total blogs: 24 -> 30 (+6 new) [stats from July to August/September]

Leading the Blogspot charge is mishmashmosh – one of the major defectors from the WordPress Alliance, after having recently transitioned in late June. Her blog, averaging over 100 views per day, has been at the forefront of R09 blogodemic, inspiring many with her entertaining outlook on the world and constant feedback. Previously she has claimed numerous times that her official reason for defection was the complexity of the WordPress system. (1, 2, 3).

However, we believe her true motive was some under the table dealings with shady characters, such as ‘Darth Gaylord‘ and ‘krissybubbles‘. When questioned over these claims, mishmashmosh issued a categorical denial, saying “It’s not true. I was there first. Krissybubbles is a copycat”. These startling new claims have sparked new investigations by SPICO (best known for their coverage of the 2007 R09 Moderator Elections) into the blogger individuality of ‘krissybubbles’.

Suspicious blurry photo depicting krissybubbles (left) along with disturbed accomplice.

“We have not found any evidence of copying, nor any feline traits, contrary to mishmashmosh’s claims.” stated a SPICO insider. “We have, however, found high levels of asian fobness, and have diagnosed ‘krissybubbles’ with photogruous luvoitis, a highly infectious disease that may cause excessive levels of arm and facial stress, and an increased number of queer looks from the general public. Unfortunately, there is currently no known cure for this disease.”

The change in the blog climate has also been marked by the infinite% increase in the number of collaborative blogs (0 -> 3). Pioneered by the three beautiful ladies of samcuties in late August, collaborative blogs have now grown to a 10% share of the R09 blog market. Asked about this trend, Mindy said “If one person dies down and doesn’t really feel like blogging, there are other people to continue. Also, it’s just more fun, it’s our last year man, we’re in this together “.

“The introduction of group blogging in the recent few weeks to the community has definitely expanded our horizons,” declared Aryan, co-owner of 1 Missed Call, a blog he started with Dan ‘Double D’ Dinh after D’s unexpected retirement from the R09 rap scene. “I must say however 1 Missed Call is to conquer over the other blogs, especially Neddys (much love to Eddy)…Everytime people look at their phones, they will remember us.” These claims have not yet been verified by SPICO, however the last time that we looked at our phone, this was false.

Joint CEOs of Neddys - Eddy (left) and Nathan (right)

Neddys, a collaborative blog run by CEOs Nathan and Eddy, has taken a more commercial approach with their work, with a growing workforce of over 10 employees. With an estimated combined worth of $34.50 (August 2009), Neddys ranks as the number #243 Asian collaborative blog (net total worth), and has also recently reached a record #421 on Maxim’s list of World’s Sexiest Asian Collaborative Bloggers 2009. However, their corporate structure has led some to question their motives. “We just thought only people we knew would read our blog.” Eddy said, after spending 10 minutes consulting their legal team. “Yes, not the President of United States or the sheik of Dubai, who wants to sponsor us now.” Nathan replied.

“We have received numerous offers to plaster our faces on noodle boxes, endorse this, endorse that.” Nathan continued. “And bus stops.” Eddy replied. “And bear peoples babies.” said Nathan. “But like always, we endeavour only to provide enjoyment to those who follow us. We never in any way attempt to purposely gain benefit from our blogs.”

The bottom line: Only time can tell how much longer this sustained blogging trend can continue. After 2 consecutive quarters of positive growth, forecasts predict negative growth for Q4 as the blogosphere enters a recession due to the Human Study Crisis. Current tools are unable to predict the trend for Q1 2010, however analysts are expecting numbers to fall as bloggers begin to gain ’social lives’ and ‘deadlines’. One thing remains certain though – this post was absolutely pointless.